


Chasing kites

by twilightemperor



Series: Us, the stars, & things I never told you [1]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Character Study, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sex, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightemperor/pseuds/twilightemperor
Summary: In that moment, it’s just Wangho and Sanghyeok, and Sanghyeok and Wangho, two lost souls finding each other in the  dim light, two people who had once held on to each other and stayed in a sinking ship, two versions of the same story of failure and expectations and chasing after things they will never achieve.(Wangho is an expert at running away. Sanghyeok is bad at sharing his feelings. This is how misunderstandings arise and nothing ever gets resolved till years later.)
Relationships: Han "Peanut" Wang-ho/Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok
Series: Us, the stars, & things I never told you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939072
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	Chasing kites

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed, because I am incapable of approaching others to ask for help.  
> Do NOT read if you're not of age.

**‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 2017 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙**

If he reaches out now, he’ll feel the warmth under his fingertips, the neckline of the older male so enticing and attractive. If he reaches out now, Sanghyeok will lean in and let him do what he wants, strangely obedient and welcoming, gaze soft and wanting. If he reaches out now, maybe Sanghyeok will forgive him for being afraid and for all the things left unsaid, and for the one hundred ways Wangho has broken his heart. 

“Hyung,” Wangho calls out tentatively, hand hovering, unsure of where to touch, uncertain of what he is allowed to do and where it all ends. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Sanghyeok finally says. 

Wangho goes back to his room and stares up into darkness for hours. Neither one of them is willing to take the first step forward. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

_On hindsight_ , Wangho thinks, _it was going to happen sooner or later_. 

He’s two years younger. He’s aggressive to boot, quick to get annoyed, unpredictable and hot-tempered. He’s clear with what he doesn’t like. Doesn’t like it when strangers stand too close to him, doesn’t like it when people continuously praise him for being cute, hates it even more when people compare him to the ghost of the jungler who once occupied the space next to Sanghyeok.

Sanghyeok has been in the league scene for ages, revered and respected. He’s quieter, more calm, although he has his playful moments. He’s skin and bones, though Wangho isn’t that much different in that aspect. But Sanghyeok is clear on what he does like, and that’s where they differ.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“You should stay,” Junsik had pleaded. “Please? We can win. I know we can.” 

“I can’t stay,” Wangho had decided. “Take care of him for me.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“You’re leaving,” Sanghyeok announces, like he’s already expected it. The journalism outlets have yet to catch wind of it, but as always, there are rumours online, gossip forums thriving during the off season.

“I am,” Wangho says. 

And that had been the start of the end.

* * *

**‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 2018 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙**

Kingzone is a welcomed change. 

Wangho doesn’t take too long to think, surprisingly. He knows he’s done chasing what he can’t get. 

(But he won’t talk about what he’s been chasing, because that’s a story to be left untold.)

Bumhyeon fusses over him in true mother-hen fashion, constantly checking up on him. It is strange at first, with three members out of the Rox Tigers squad being reunited in the same team. Jongin and Bumhyeon come in a pair, a one plus one, and Wangho is their estranged child who makes questionable choices and regrets it later, running back home to the bottom lane pair with his tail between his legs. 

“This is what you get for going to the enemy,” Jongin had teased, reminding them of what 2016 could have been. Maybe they could have won. Maybe they would’ve stayed together afterwards. Maybe he wouldn’t have joined the same team that took them down, just for the sake of winning. 

That’s Wangho’s problem, though. Always eager to win, eyes on the prize; it’s so easy to lose yourself along the way. 

What a pity for me, Wangho sneers at himself. 

2017 never worked out. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When he sees Sanghyeok properly again, it’s at KeSPA Cup, Seongu seated next to him. With Seunghoon gone from the SKT team as well, Euijin has taken over the top lane. 

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt him when Sanghyeok brushes past him in the hallway without even a greeting, eyes steely, never straying from the front. Junsik and Jaewan greet him happily despite having been completely steamrolled by him on the rift, and Junsik offers a sympathetic smile and a shake of his head when Wangho opens his mouth to ask about how Sanghyeok has been. 

“He’s seeing a therapist,” Junsik says softly. “We are, too. For...”

Wangho knows exactly what he’s referring to. He’s no stranger to it, having seen it firsthand. Oh, how the mighty fall. The kingdom is in shambles, and the emperor himself is alone in the ruins, pride hurt and heart shattered. 

“I’ll text you later,” Wangho flashes a thin smile as Bumhyeon rounds the corner to collect him. “See you around.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

If there is anything Wangho likes, it’s anime and games. 

For the past few days, he has been neglecting his own body, only bothering to brush his teeth and wash his face, change his clothes and then go about his merry way like a zombie. He spends his free time either on League or on some sketchy anime website, watching his favourite characters chase after each other like how he had spent the past year chasing after —

“You’re absolutely disgusting,” Bumhyeon sighs at the state of his bed, shoving a pile of empty snack wrappers into a plastic bag and tying it up. “Get up, take a shower. I don’t want to see you moping around, or I’ll personally call Faker and give him a piece of my mind for making you like this.”

Guilt rises like the bile in his stomach. Wangho suppresses it. He spends a solid hour in the shower till Dongha impatiently knocks on the door, yelling at him to get out. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

In Spring, Kingzone beats SKT again.

Once again, it doesn’t surprise Wangho when he passes Sanghyeok in the hallway. Nevertheless, it still hurts to look at the mid laner and see no semblance to the boy he once knew, once thought the world of, once hugged in the middle of the stage, smiles wide and hands warm.

Junsik hides away, avoiding him after the sting of the loss. For the first time in his life, Wangho feels upset despite winning. 

“Smile,” Jongin reminds him, so he automatically does, eyes upturned into crescents, making sure to welcome each fan with a greeting. The fanmeet queues are particularly long today, and by the end of it, Wangho has a stack of presents laid at his feet, arms full of bouquets of flowers that he’ll undoubtedly struggle to find empty bottles for. 

The flowers will wilt, and their housekeeper will throw them away, and then they’ll get new flowers again. 

_What a cycle it is_ , Wangho thinks. What a cycle life is. 

That night, he stays up, watching their gameplay, watching the camera panned towards Sanghyeok’s face. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

They’re not friends anymore, technically speaking.

The first step to running away is to erase every trace of your past. It doesn’t really help. He finds himself staring at his computer listlessly, wondering if Sanghyeok would be online. Occasionally, he meets Sanghyeok on the rift, and pretends that everything is fine and dandy, occasionally catching himself giggling when Sanghyeok responds to his emotes or does something incredibly silly like running into the enemy team. 

(Wangho always follows him to his death, because if there’s anything romantic, it is definitely letting your champion die right next to your ex-teammate’s champion).

Everything is fine on the rift for Wangho. The trouble only exists in real life, and Wangho's always had the ability to fake it till he makes it. 

Dongha sniffs out his growing anxiety. The top laner sits him down one evening, staring at him intensely. 

“You’ve been out of sorts,” he says. “I know we haven’t been teammates for as long as you and bottom lane have been, but even Jongin-hyung said you’ve been acting strange.” 

“People change,” Wangho replies. “Maybe I changed.” 

“People do change,” Dongha agrees slowly. “But usually not like this.”

“Change is good,” he insists, because he doesn’t like to admit his own shortcomings. 

Dongha pauses, eyebrows furrowed in consternation. “You like him,” the top laner says, not in an accusatory tone, but it sure does send off alarm bells in Wangho’s head. 

“I don’t,” Wangho denies, surprisingly calm, before he realises his mistake. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, and I like girls,” he clarifies, but he knows it’s too late when Dongha rolls his eyes. 

“Keep lying to yourself, maybe one day you’ll eventually convince yourself.”

And that’s exactly what Wangho does. Keeps his eyes on the prize and his heart under wraps. Avoids anything and everything related to Lee Sanghyeok.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“This is an intervention, isn’t it,” Wangho says dryly, arms crossed while waiting for their sushi. 

“Well,” Jongin begins patiently, voice dramatic. “I figured it would be prime time to tell you that Junsik has been complaining that you’ve been ignoring his messages. That, and you’ve been playing well lately despite being a complete mess. Please share your secrets.”

Bumhyeon nudges Jongin with an elbow, shutting him up. “What we mean to say is,” he flashes an award-winning smile, one that Wangho knows has gotten him loads and loads of new fans, “you need to talk to us instead of shutting us out, okay?” 

“Kay,” Wangho simply says, busying himself with opening his can of soda. He tunes the both of them out, Bumhyeon’s nagging merging with the noise in the background. 

They eat, and then they go home, and Wangho spends the next five hours taking his frustrations out in League, because that’s all he can do. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

He learns to cope with it.

MSI 2018 starts off really, really well, and then it morphs into a complete shit show. 

They pass group stages easily with six wins, going right up to the semi-finals. Wangho gets subbed in and out on certain days, and he finds himself too tired to even argue, accepting orders meekly. 

They win 3-1 in the semi-finals, breezing through. 

The trouble starts in the finals. They crash and burn.

Wangho can already see the hundreds of articles calling him “washed up”, the words searing in his head whenever he closes his eyes and tries to sleep. RNG takes a metaphorical dump on them, leaving thousands of people laughing at the entirety of Kingzone.

He ends up not sleeping much, and spends a solid four hours every night watching anime because this is the only way he knows how to detach himself from reality. Everything is uninteresting, everything is boring, and he’s still chasing and chasing even when he’s on a different team and he hates it. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

His friendship with Junsik surprisingly still lasts. They go out for dinner sometimes during off-days, spending hours at bars nursing their cups of beer. Wangho steers clear of everything else, because even the slightest drop of the wrong alcohol can leave him woozy and giggly, and he certainly doesn’t want to mistakenly flirt with his best friend just because he’s lonely. 

“I’m tired,” Junsik tells him one night when they’re in the corner of a bar. He lays his head on the table, black hair billowed in his arms. “I’m really, really tired. It’s hard.”

“I know it is,” Wangho replies softly, patting his friend’s head comfortingly. They end up leaving the bar and going back to a dingy hotel, Junsik swiping his card quickly and signing off as quick as possible, avoiding eye contact with the hotel staff. 

In bed, Junsik cries, and so does Wangho, and they sit in silence after that, unsure of what else to say. There’s so much guilt in Wangho’s chest, because he’s probably a part of the reason why Junsik feels like shit. If he had stayed in SKT, maybe the team wouldn’t be like this, and Junsik may never be whole again but he wouldn’t be empty and broken. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. These words won’t reach Junsik, won’t reach him, because Junsik is finally asleep and Sanghyeok is far, far away. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Summer comes around, and things don’t get any easier. 

For one, their substitute jungler, Woochan, gets even more of the limelight. Wangho pretends it doesn’t affect him. 

The good thing is, Woochan ends up starting for one of their matches against SKT, so Wangho sits in their waiting room and twiddles his thumbs as his heart beats fast in his chest, the overwhelming urge to vomit rising in his stomach. When they win 2-0, he watches the single camera panned at Sanghyeok for one last time before tearing his eyes away from the screen and looking back down at his phone to distract himself with some manga.

In the second round, Wangho throws aside everything and goes all in, guns blazing, because he decides he’s had enough. He hates Lee Sanghyeok, hates everything that has to do with him, and hates whatever misery 2017 had brought him.

It’s a good thing Sanghyeok is benched that day. Wangho happily takes his frustrations out on his old team, only a sliver of guilt remaining towards Seongu and Junsik. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The Asian Games go terribly wrong. 

At the airport, Wangho stands around nervously, a bouquet of flowers in his arms. Sanghyeok passes by a couple of times, busy chatting and posing for pictures. His heart beats fast in his chest when the older male walks past him again, and he adverts his gaze and tries to looks interested in his bouquet. 

They skirt around each other, neither of them willing to break the tension. They exchange a few polite words, just to ease the atmosphere, but Wangho is still jittery and fidgety, swaying about. 

It feels wrong and right at the same time when he finally takes his place next to Sanghyeok, quelling his fears and his nervousness. If this had been a year ago, Sanghyeok would have looked over and cracked some jokes to ease his worries, but this is the year 2018, and they've both departed from what they shared. 

The lights are shining. Sanghyeok looks over at him and smiles. Wangho tries to convince himself that it's all not just for the cameras to eat up. 

"Silver medal isn't that bad," their coach says. Wangho promptly ignores him, fiddling with his fingernails. The team had cried backstage, full of regret and what-could-have-been's after their loss at the finals. 

"I'm going to get a drink," Wangho announces, and leaves the room in a flurry, rubbing away at his eyes. The rest of the team don't point out that there's a carton box full of bottles right next to the door. It's so suffocating, the way he had lost again with Sanghyeok. Maybe he'll never win in this lifetime. Maybe second place is his destiny. Maybe it's his bad luck rubbing off onto Sanghyeok. 

Whatever it is, Wangho's nearly ready to give up. He slides down onto the floor in the corner of the hallway, looking at the number of messages flooding his phone notifications. 

Someone squats next to him. "You... okay?" 

Unable to recognise the voice, Wangho looks up. It's one of the players from the Chinese team, a skinny boy who goes by the ID Meiko. Wangho has met him, has even spoken to him for a bit and exchanged jerseys. 

"Yes, I am okay," he lies easily in English, showing a thumbs up. His companion frowns, sitting down next to him. 

"Lie," Tian Ye says. He's honest as ever. Wangho vaguely remembers talking to him on the League client using badly translated romanised Mandarin. 

"Congratulations," Wangho changes the subject. His English is questionable, but at least it's decent enough to have normal small talk. "China is so good."

"Come join China," Tian Ye replies in English after a few moments, tilting his head. He looks cute, Wangho realises. Almost cute enough for Wangho to have a fling with and to forget about his mid laner. But Wangho's not gay. Wangho likes girls, and stupid Sanghyeok. 

He shakes his head. "I think I will stay in Korea for one year." 

"Okay," Tian Ye nods. "Come visit. I will show you around." 

"Wangho!" Jaehyuk calls out. Wangho jolts, seeing the ADC approach them. "Oh, hey," the taller male greets Tian Ye. 

Tian Ye stands, pulling Wangho up. Without waiting, he hugs Wangho gently, smiling at him. His arms are warm and he smells strangely good. "Talk in game," he says, before waving goodbye to the both of them, going off in the direction of his own waiting room. Flustered, Wangho turns away from Jaehyuk and briskly walks down the hallway. 

"Wow, what was that about," Jaehyuk teases, trailing behind him. He doesn't stop teasing even when they reach their waiting room. "Hey, guys! Wangho got a hug from the cute support from China! That Meiko boy! Wow, that’s complete betrayal. How could you betray us like that?"

"Shut up," Wangho snarls, glaring at Jaehyuk, but Sanghyeok only stares at them for a few seconds before resuming his packing. 

At the back of Wangho’s mind, he wonders whether he should really play for a foreign team instead. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

That same night, Wangho’s at the hotel restaurant trying not to cry over his mocktail. He had merely pointed to one of the fruity-looking drinks someone else was sipping from, opting not to try reading from the menu. From where he’s seated at the corner of the restaurant, he can see the rest of their odd team mingling about. 

Sanghyeok sidles up next to him, taking a seat. “Why are you alone?” 

“Hello, hyung,” Wangho says flatly. His head buzzes. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

He only gets a small grunt in response as Sanghyeok orders an incredibly strange drink that soon arrives in a fancy glass. He sighs, keeping his tone neutral as he speaks. “Hyung, do you have something to tell me?” 

Letting out a sigh of his own, Sanghyeok leans against the table, crossing his arms. “I don’t know. Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

His tone isn’t unkind, it’s just honest as ever.

“You know,” Wangho says truthfully, resting his head on the table, facing Sanghyeok. “Sometimes I wish I could forget about you overnight. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent all my time chasing after you.” 

Sanghyeok gives him a miffed expression after a moment of silence. “You’re the one who left,” he replies curtly. 

Somehow, something in Wangho snaps, all the feelings he had tried so desperately to bury rising up from his chest. He perks up, sitting still on his chair. “I left for a reason, hyung.” 

“You avoided me,” Sanghyeok’s voice is still calm, but his breaths come up in short bursts. “You erased me from your life just like that. Just because we didn’t win.” 

“What would you know?” Wangho retorts, snarling at the older male. “You’ve won three times! You of all people shouldn’t be looking down on me for trying to win Worlds just once.”

“You still left me anyway,” Sanghyeok replies, sipping from his drink. “Because I couldn’t get you your trophy.” 

“It’s not just about the fucking trophy!” Wangho growls. “I spent so much time trying to be your equal.” He grips down onto the table cloth, crumpling it in his palms. “Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you? But I couldn’t stay with you! Do you think I like getting compared to that old jungler of yours?” he can’t stop, utterly frustrated. Everything’s coming out wrong. 

“Whatever it is, you don’t have to go out of your way to avoid me. It’s fine. You’ve given me your answer loud and clear,” Sanghyeok says. He finishes his drink without any problem, placing the glass down. The ice rattles in the cup.

Shocked, Wangho takes a few moments to process what the older male just said. “I’m just tired of chasing your glory and trying to live up to everyone’s expectations. I can’t be as good as you. I hit my fucking peak in Rox! That’s what everyone says, and it’s probably true!” Wangho scrubs at his own face, harshly wiping away his tears. “I didn’t leave you by choice.”

“What about us,” Sanghyeok hisses. Wangho recoils, slightly afraid of his fury. It’s rare for Sanghyeok to raise his voice like this. “Did you hate me that much? Hate that I liked you? Hate that I’m gay?” 

“You know I liked you! I liked you back. Why the fuck would I let you hug me and hold me like that if I didn’t like you? Do you think I go around kissing and touching everyone intimately?” Wangho counters back tersely, feeling frustrated at the fact that there’s more tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Sanghyeok looks at him quietly, his stare unwavering. “You never once told me. Was I not supposed to think that you were just using me to pass time?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “You never comforted me after our loss. It hurt me just as much as it hurt you. It would’ve made me feel better if you had just stayed with me that night.” 

“I didn’t know that,” Wangho bites his lower lip, deep in thought. “I thought you were mad at me and just wanted me to leave.” 

“And would you have stayed in SKT if I had asked you to?” Sanghyeok asks, staring down at him. His fingers are fidgeting again, restlessly fiddling with the zip of his jacket. 

“No,” Wangho replies. “I wouldn’t have. Not when I spent the whole year trying to live up to expectations.” 

“Whose?” Sanghyeok’s stare is unnerving. 

“Everyone’s,” Wangho says. 

“But not mine,” Sanghyeok replies. “Because I’ve never once seriously compared you to Seongung hyung, have I?”

Regret tastes bittersweet, Wangho realises as he slides out of his chair and stumbles away, trying to find his way back to his room. It tastes like alcohol, and nights spent walking side by side, and rented hotel rooms and travelling together. It tastes like the iced coffee he used to drink while waiting for their matches to start. It tastes like spring time jitters and summer time romance and autumn time failures. 

But heartbreak tastes like winter numbness and everything and nothing at the same time. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“I’m sorry,” Sanghyeok tells him when they meet up again for All Stars. “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” 

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m sorry too,” he apologises. “Want to get Starbucks with me?” 

“Okay,” Sanghyeok says. Wangho stays close to him, but reminds himself not to go overboard. They talk lightly, stopping to take a few photographs with some fans. Wangho smiles for the cameras and waves. 

For a moment, he sees Sanghyeok smiling at him from the corner of his eye. He tries not to react, opting to act the same way he always has with Sanghyeok. 

Nostalgia fills him to the bone as they spend time with each other, shopping for clothes and discussing their latest interests. For some reason, Sanghyeok still stares at him the same way he used to, and it’s unsettling and comforting all at the same time. 

It’s fine if it’s like this, Wangho tells himself. The manner in which Sanghyeok’s looking at him and joking with him makes him feel like nothing has changed, like they’re back in 2017 before autumn season, before the days had turned cold, before the leaves had yet to meet the ground, the sun shining bright on their bodies and when each kiss Sanghyeok laid on his knuckles had sent his heart into overdrive. 

There’s happier seasons, and there’s sad seasons. Wangho just wants spring and summer of 2017 to repeat over and over again. 

* * *

**‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 2019 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙**

Wangho runs away again, this time to Generation Gaming, with his bank account padded and years and years of promised financial stability. 

Dongha flees to — surprise, surprise — SKT of all places. Wangho gets a warning a few days in advance before the announcements roll in. 

Bumhyeon and Jongin separate. Jongin announces his retirement, Bumhyeon runs to Misfits, and the 2018 Kingzone team disperses. 

He gets stopped by Dongha one day in the hallway, dragged to the corner of the room to avoid any nosy reporter. “Keep in touch with me,” Dongha demands. “You can... You can use me as your middleman, so you can get updates on him.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wangho says blankly, schooling his own expression to make sure there’s no hint of recognition. Dongha’s not stupid, though. “See you around. We can duo. I’m sick of all my top laners managing to die three times before ten minutes.”

“I’ll send you updates,” Dongha yells. Wangho waves a hand and walks away.

Unfortunately, 2019 proves to be an even worse year as Wangho’s team gets completely owned in Spring. Hundreds of articles get released each time they lose, following his downfall. 

Sanghyeok makes it out of the strenuous competition journey much better than he does, but all good things never last. The empire falls once again.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

He wakes up with a rude shock on the day the results of the All Stars attendees are announced. To his immense confusion, he's been invited to attend the event.

On the online forums, people are relentless, pulling out evidence of his bad manners and crappy plays. 

Wangho cries a little. Just a little. He paces about his room, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip till it’s rubbed raw. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

At All Stars, he makes it his mission to stick to Taemin, clinging on to his fellow jungler. They exchange friendly words, bonding over shared interests. 

Being reunited with Junsik also helps keep the anxiety from sprouting in his chest. His best friend is calm as always, patiently teaching him how to play golf, bringing him to the other players to play cards, and keeping him company whenever they’re free to explore. They take lots of pictures, making up for lost time. 

Sanghyeok goes to Portland in their free time. Wangho deliberately chooses to hang out with Taemin instead, avoiding the mid laner when he can. Outside of their time on stage, they haven’t been particularly close. 

It doesn’t hurt as much to look at Sanghyeok now. They’re both older, both wiser, both tired of chasing after things they may never get. Wangho doesn’t know what Sanghyeok’s chasing, but the feel of Sanghyeok’s gaze tells him that everything is going to be over. 

They’re civil. Friendly, even. Wangho doesn’t have a reason to be hostile to him. They pose for pictures, give out handshakes, and sit next to each other on the couch, offering feedback and observations at the games on the screen. 

Junsik looks at them and sighs, grabbing both of them by the wrist and dragging them to an empty room, chasing out a few of the pros who are mingling about. “Hey, some Korean business,” Junsik explains quickly in English, jerking his head in Wangho’s direction. The pros are friendly enough, waving at them and shuffling out of the room to give them space. 

Sanghyeok pulls away, rubbing at his wrist. “Still as barbaric as ever,” he takes a jab at Junsik, but Junsik rolls his eyes. 

“Settle your differences. Both of you. Wangho’s going to China. You two need to get your shit together and not skirt around each other anymore. There’s no more time for that,” Junsik commands. With that, he exits the room, locking it behind him by the knob. 

Speechless, Wangho licks at his bottom lip nervously, cursing at Junsik in his head. “How have you been, hyung?” 

“Good,” Sanghyeok replies, as if he’s amused. “What kind of Korean business are we having?” 

“I don’t know,” Wangho says. “I thought we already settled our differences last year.” 

“Did we?” Sanghyeok lifts his eyebrow. 

Wangho fakes a laugh. “What else is there to settle? I should stop clinging on to the past.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

On one of the nights, Wangho’s in bed, taking lazy sips out of his second beer can he had snagged from the mini refrigerator at the corner of the room. His mind is swirling, staring emptily at his phone. Maybe it’s liquid courage; or maybe that’s an excuse — but he picks up his phone and sends a message out. 

He shuts his eyes, on the brink of dozing off when there’s a few knocks on his door before there’s the sound of his door opening and shutting. 

“Wangho-ya,” Sanghyeok’s voice still feels like the ocean, and Wangho wants to sink into it. “You’re drinking?” 

“Hello, hyung,” Wangho grins up, patting the space next to him. “Come sit with me. I haven’t spoken to you in ages.” 

“We just chatted yesterday afternoon,” Sanghyeok says in complete deadpan, but does it anyway, kicking off his slippers and making himself comfortable. 

(Wangho hates that Sanghyeok’s presence still feels familiar.) 

The hotel room’s bed side lamp doesn’t help at all, the shade of yellow making the dark room much more dreamy than it is. Sanghyeok stiffens up when Wangho drags his finger down his cheek, but remains silent, staring back without a word. 

“You’re not sober, are you?” Sanghyeok acknowledges aloud, staring at the two cans of beer on the bedside table. “I see you’re still so easily influenced by alcohol.”

“I’m not drunk,” Wangho mumbles, scooting closer. 

The older male lets out a sigh. “If there’s nothing important, I’m leaving.” 

Emotions rush through Wangho like a bullet train, hitting him all at once. “So you want to be the one to leave this time? Will it hurt you less? It didn’t hurt me any less,” he whispers. He holds on to Sanghyeok’s sleeve, tugging at it. 

Sanghyeok freezes in place, body rigid. “You’re the one who’s leaving for China,” he says neutrally, keeping his tone flat. “I don’t want to quarrel with you again.” 

“I was so hurt too, hyung. How was I supposed to reach out? I still like you so much, but even now it hurts me when I think about you,” Wangho replies softly. “I keep thinking about how I’ve failed you in game and even in real life.” 

The buzz in his head is getting stronger, but surprisingly, he’s clear on what he’s saying. There’s a long silence that seems to stretch for hours. 

“I’ve never thought of you as a failure,” Sanghyeok finally says. There’s a thump in Wangho’s heart that tells him that this is like 2017 all over again, where things had been happier and safer until everything had burned down.

“Go lock the door, hyung,” Wangho mumbles shakily. He lets go of Sanghyeok’s sleeve, peering up. “Sleep over tonight.”

That had been the code back then — that they would spend hours exploring and finding out what the other person liked, and learning new things about themselves. Wangho had learnt that he truly had a crush on Sanghyeok the first time he had offered to help relieve Sanghyeok in the bathroom when he had accidentally walked in on him. From there, things had escalated into secret nights in the practice room after everyone had gone home. 

To his surprise, Sanghyeok doesn’t retreat back to his own room. He gets up to lock the door obediently, then gingerly clambers back into bed, sitting in front of Wangho, quietly observing. 

“What do you want to do?” Sanghyeok asks carefully. Wangho almost scoffs at his politeness. 

“I don’t know, hyung,” he replies sarcastically. He grabs a handful of fabric from Sanghyeok’s shirt and tugs him closer. “What do you think I want to do in one of our last few moments together in the same space?” 

He closes the space between them, and finally, this is everything Wangho has dreamed of doing since he left the team.

They kiss hungrily and aggressively, but it feels good. This is what Wangho certainly needed after so long. Sanghyeok kisses in the same way, the same honest way that makes Wangho feel special and warm on the inside.

Sanghyeok still smells like spring time, fresh laundry and cool bedsheets. Sanghyeok still tastes like summer ciders and sparkling teas. Sanghyeok still feels like scorching wildfire and raw emotions and everything Wangho knows and loves and has been yearning for the past two years. 

"Fuck you," Wangho growls when they catch their breaths. "I hate you." 

"No, you don't," Sanghyeok says, smirking. He straddles Wangho, nipping at his jaw, placing kisses and sucking bruises that Wangho's sure will show up the next day. 

Wangho shuts his eyes, takes in the sensations and runs his fingers through Sanghyeok's hair. "I missed you, hyung," he murmurs. He feels Sanghyeok's hands roaming under his shirt, humming when cool fingers brush against him. "I missed you so much."

"Me too, Wangho-ya," Sanghyeok replies.

In that moment, it’s just Wangho and Sanghyeok, and Sanghyeok and Wangho, two lost souls finding each other in the dim light, two people who had once held on to each other and stayed in a sinking ship, two versions of the same story of failure and expectations and chasing after things they will never achieve. 

“I love you,” Wangho chokes out, staring up at his old teammate. Sanghyeok kisses him till he’s dizzy and light-headed, hands on his skin and rubbing against him sensually. 

With his eyes filled with tears, Wangho’s already bad eyesight is even worse, but Sanghyeok wipes his tears away and whispers sweetly. “Tell me what you want,” Sanghyeok’s voice is rough around the edges but honey-filled and comforting. 

“Touch me,” Wangho mumbles. He can feel the outline of Sanghyeok’s smile against his stomach, the older male nosing lightly. 

“I’m already touching you,” the older male teases, one finger gliding down to palm at Wangho’s clothed thighs. “Do you want something more?” 

Wangho feels his cheeks turning warm, his brain fuzzy. “I want you,” he stutters out as Sanghyeok plays with his waistband, agonisingly close to where Wangho is already turning hard. 

“What a bold request,” Sanghyeok jokes, grinning. “Okay, then. You can have me for tonight.” 

Their clothes land on the floor in a scatter, carelessly tossed away. Sanghyeok makes it a point to kiss every inch of Wangho’s skin, like he wants the whole world to know they’re together. 

One, two, and then three, and Wangho’s panting, gasping for air, gripping down onto Sanghyeok’s shoulders with every added finger. It burns, the lotion not helping much, but Sanghyeok is gentle and thoughtful and ever so patient, stroking him to fullness, taking care of his every need and want.

When they connect, Sanghyeok is divine, moving in ways Wangho can’t help but react to, soft moans escaping his lips. Wangho comes undone soon after, soft flower petals blooming as Sanghyeok’s wildfire spreads through his veins. 

Everything's alright again. They spend the next two hours lazily kissing each other as Wangho sits in Sanghyeok’s lap and has his way with him. Sanghyeok's voice is low and his breaths are hot against Wangho's skin when they finally talk about their past.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Morning comes, and Wangho wakes up to Sanghyeok’s bare chest. He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, choosing to hug his mid laner tighter. Sanghyeok whines in his sleep, hugging back, akin to the way he used to sleep with a stuffed toy. Wangho wonders if Sanghyeok still has trouble sleeping without hugging something. 

He falls back into deep slumber, only stirring again due to the feather-like touches against the back of his neck. Keeping his breathing stable, he fakes his sleep, enjoying the way Sanghyeok strokes against his skin in just the right way. 

“I love you,” Sanghyeok murmurs against the crown of his head. Wangho tries not to tremble in his embrace. “I love you very much. Did you know? I still dream about you a lot and what we could have been. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with only memories of us playing in my head.”

Long fingers dance down his back, cupping his waist gently. “I don’t know how many times I dreamed about touching you again. Just like this,” Sanghyeok pauses, pressing down onto his skin, thumbing at it. “This still feels like a dream. I thought you’d leave for China without letting me say goodbye one last time.” 

Wangho struggles not to cry, allowing himself to shift a little, but not too much that it would alert Sanghyeok. Completely confused at this sudden turn of events, he waits patiently for Sanghyeok to continue. 

It takes a long time till Sanghyeok speaks again, presumably having fun letting his hands wander around the vast expanse of Wangho’s bare body. 

“I never apologised to you for losing in the finals. I’m sorry, Wangho-ya. Maybe if I had played better, called faster, made sound decisions... all that’s happened wouldn’t have happened.” Sanghyeok’s hands are warm against his chin as he shifts to tilt Wangho’s face up. It startles Wangho slightly, but he keeps still, ensuring that Sanghyeok still thinks he’s asleep. 

“More than anything, I wish we could rewind and start from scratch,” Sanghyeok whispers. Wangho feels a press of lips against his forehead, fleeting and light. 

The warmth leaves him as Sanghyeok slips away, the footsteps and the sound of the bathroom door opening letting him know that the older male is still in the room. 

Soon after, Wangho feels the blanket getting pulled up and tucked under his chin. When he hears the ruffle of clothes, signalling that Sanghyeok is getting dressed instead of joining him in bed again, he panics, sitting up hurriedly and clasping on to the mid laner’s wrist.

“Don’t go,” he calls out timidly. “Stay for a while longer.” 

Sanghyeok turns back to face him, boxers in his other hand. “I can’t,” he says. “I have to go.” 

“One more,” Wangho blurts out, his voice getting lower. “Just one more kiss.” 

Sanghyeok smiles warmly at him, and his heart is in relief as he reaches out to slot their lips together. It must be slightly uncomfortable for Sanghyeok, bending down from that angle, but he doesn’t make a single complaint. Wangho eagerly places a hand on the back of Sanghyeok’s neck, pulling him closer, deepening their kiss. His lips are probably red and raw by now. 

He pulls Sanghyeok down into bed again, feeling half of Sanghyeok’s weight resting on him. “One more,” Wangho whispers. Sanghyeok laughs and adjusts the blanket, covering them both.

Each time they part, Wangho can’t help but ask for another, and another, and he’s drowning in Sanghyeok’s scent, hands desperately scrambling to hold on as they grind against each other. 

In the afterglow of release, Wangho kisses him gently, silk soft touches against his waist letting him know how much Sanghyeok is enjoying it. 

Catching his breath, Wangho shut his eyes and counts to ten in his head. Resting his forehead against Sanghyeok’s forehead, he clenches his fists, anchoring himself down. His head is swirling. “Okay,” he finally says. “You can go now, hyung.” 

“I should,” Sanghyeok replies after a moment of silence. Wangho can’t tell if he’s upset or if he’s resigned. He watches as the older male gets dressed, lithe body covered by his white shirt and his black joggers, eyes hidden behind his pair of glasses. 

It’s slow and excruciating, but Sanghyeok doesn’t look back, because he knows it’ll hurt them both much more if he wavers. This is 2019, and Wangho will fly to China, and Sanghyeok will stay in Korea, and winter will be ice cold and full of radio silence again. 

“I’ll see you on the rift,” Wangho calls out. He sees Sanghyeok pause at the door before he gives a small nod and shuts it on his way out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/emperortwilight). I'm very selective of my followers, so I'll only accept your follow if you put a star emoji ⭐️ in your Twitter bio. You can remove it once I've accepted you!
> 
> Faker and Peanut together is my absolute favourite, because one moment we get Peanut dropping hints about Faker and the next moment we get the two of them standing near each other and refusing to acknowledge each other's existence. I love suffering, and that's why I refuse to let go of this (sinking) ship even after so many years. 
> 
> I tried my best to stick to the general timeline of events, but I might have missed out a bunch of things. 
> 
> If you liked this, please leave me a kudos or come yell at me in the comments and tell me how much of an evil person I am for wanting everyone to suffer in this ship with me.


End file.
